Hair Grows
by Olexia Engel
Summary: "Hair grows, Riki, but can your love?" IasonxRiki, Oneshot, Yaoi.


**HAIR GROWS, by Olexia Engel**

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**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I do not own Ai no Kusabi.

**Reviews:** Yes please!

**Pairing: **Iason/Riki, Guy/Riki

**Characters:** Iason, Riki, Daryl, Guy

**Notes: **Romance, angst, yaoi

**Time Scale:** Set within the three years of Riki's taming.

**Summary: **"Hair grows, Riki… but can your love?"

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"Riki…" Iason sighed, opening his eyes and turning to face his pet. Riki was still residing in the aftershock of his orgasm, floating in a heavenly bliss and only vaguely aware of his Blondie Master lying beside him. Iason took this opportunity to scrutinize his beautiful pet, raking his eyes over the mongrel's lithe body, now languid and covered in a glistening sheen of cooling sweat. Iason noted Riki's hair, tousled and splayed against the silken pillow, and smiled warmly at the mongrel's kiss-swollen lips and the irregular rise and fall of his chest. Breathing finally levelling out, Riki slowly opened his eyes and smiled up at his Master, Iason now propped up on one elbow and tracing lazy circles on the mongrel's stomach. Iason then leaned down and captured Riki's lips in a passionate kiss, coaxing them open with a persistent tongue and then delving swiftly inside. Their tongues clashed fiercely in a desperate battle of dominance, the Blondie soon overpowering his pet and seizing his face firmly with both hands to cease his playful struggles. Iason then broke away with a teasing flick of his tongue, leaving the mongrel breathless and completely intoxicated.

"Exquisite, pet," Iason whispered huskily in the mongrel's ear, referring to the kiss but also to their earlier sexual congress, "simply exquisite."

Riki grinned slightly in response before quickly averting his eyes, suddenly unable to bear the intensity of his Master's piercing blue gaze. He then sat up in the bed, kicking away the silken red sheets and resting his bare back against the large, ornate headboard carved from pure Ketorian wood.

"I need a smoke," Riki said with a sigh, brushing the hair from his eyes and climbing out of the bed. Iason watched silently as his pet began to dress, appreciating the view when the mongrel bent down to retrieve his discarded tank top.

"Shit!" Riki cursed a moment later, throwing an empty cigarette box across the bedroom, "I'm out of fucking smokes."

Iason chuckled at his pet's typical choice of words, by now accustomed to the mongrel's vulgar tongue. He moved across the bed and opened the top drawer of the bedside cabinet, turning to Riki and presenting him with a pack of Majestic Blue.

"Shit! Thanks Iason!" Riki exclaimed, momentarily stunned at his Master's kind and unexpected gesture. With a devilish grin, he sashayed towards the Blondie and plucked the cigarettes from his fingers, slipping them into the back pocket of his trousers and placing a chaste kiss on Iason's cheek. As he turned to go, Iason grabbed his arm, effectively stopping the mongrel from leaving.

"Two cigarettes, Riki," Iason ordered, his demeanour suddenly reverting back to full Master Mode, the warning in his voice evident and intimidating. A little disappointed, Riki nodded meekly, not willing to forfeit his smokes over another silly argument. Satisfied, Iason released his hold and allowed his pet to proceed to the balcony, a place which Riki frequented daily to find solace and comfort, if only for a short amount of time.

After a few minutes had passed, Iason decided it was time to get up, and so donned a silk robe and left the bedroom in search for his mongrel pet. He passed Daryl on his way through the Great Hall, giving the youth a small nod of approval. Daryl smiled shyly in response, his cheeks growing scarlet, and quickly returned to watering the abundance of Amoian roses, beautiful flowers now in full bloom and boasting delicate shades of terracotta and red. Iason continued through the penthouse, stopping finally before the balcony and seeing his pet sitting silently on its ledge. Casting away his initial instinct of walking up and embracing his pet, Iason remained where he was, choosing to survey his pet instead. Watching closely, he noted, with a pang of guilt and hurt, Riki's forlorn expression and the way his dark eyes swept desperately across the metallic city below, Tanagura's glittering panorama. His heart ached even more when he saw his pet then gaze longingly at the world beyond, the distant world of Ceres, a place where Riki once belonged that now called to him like a siren, singing for the mongrel's return. Iason closed his eyes then, unable to bear the anguish of his miserable pet. In that instant, he made his decision: he would grant Riki one day of freedom – this day – to loosen his chain and hopefully win his love. Iason formulated the proposal in his mind, smiling sadly at the image of Riki wide-eyed and euphoric to leave him to return to his homeland.

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"Your wine, Master," Daryl murmured nervously, handing the glass of Zynthian Royal to the magnificent Blondie. Iason took the proffered drink from the quivering Furniture and then dismissed him with an imperceptible nod. Once alone, Iason carefully sipped the wine and attempted again to concentrate on the Periodical he had been trying to read all evening, but without much luck. His mind continually drifted back to his mongrel pet – if he was in any danger, whether he was having a good time, where he was, or what he was up to. True, Riki still wore the pet ring meaning that Iason could trace his pet, but knowing the whereabouts of the mongrel made his anxiety only increase; the knowledge that his pet was in Ceres and not by his side was not comforting in the least. Already, Iason had checked the tracer fourteen times that day, watching, transfixed, as his pet roamed the streets of Ceres and visited virtually all of the clubs and bars in the province. Sighing, Iason folded the paper and placed it on the table alongside his wine, which he had barely touched. He then got up and began strolling the expanse of the Great Hall, back and forth, with no point or direction but to simply relieve his mind from his incessant worrying and grant his legs the movement they had been begging for. When that failed to work, he sat back down and closed his eyes, trying to detach himself from the current world and its bitter reality. However, this only served to drive him even madder – the vivid images of his pet emblazoned behind his lids. Snapping his eyes open, he came to the decision to go and retrieve his pet right away, the thought of waiting until morning now truly absurd.

"Daryl!" Iason bellowed, standing up and swiftly entering the corridor leading to the penthouse's main entrance.

"Yes, Sir!"

The Furniture, who had secretly been hiding in the shadows, came scurrying, already clutching the Blondie's red cloak having guessed his plan for departure.

"You have my permission to stay in your room tonight. You are no longer needed of assistance. I am leaving now to fetch Riki. In that time I want you to finish with your duties and then retire to your room."

"Thank you, Master," Daryl gushed, pleased beyond no means to have the evening to spend as he wished, a rarity since his arrival at the House of Mink.

"That will be all," Iason concluded softly, noting with slight endearment the boy's obvious delight with this proposal. Iason then turned on his heel and exited the penthouse, the automated opening and closing of the huge, metal door marking his departure.

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With a hammering heart, Iason sped through the glittering city of Eos, increasing the vehicle's acceleration tenfold and zooming past the dwindling traffic as he approached the border of Tanagura's central province. Everything outside was a whirlwind of life and colour, whizzing past and adding to the Blondie's zeal and excitement. He glanced again at the navigating screen before him, noting with a rush of affection that his pet was in Apatia, the outskirts of Midas. He entered the codes to find the exact location of his pet and smiled when he saw that the mongrel had checked into one of the most expensive and lavish hotels in the area: Yotrusia. Trust his pet to siphon his unlimited credit allowance, Iason mused, shaking his head at Riki's salient predictability. He couldn't wait to surprise his pet and scoop him up into his arms, carry him back to Tanagura and ravish him all night long. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had missed his pet; barely twelve hours since he had released the dark-haired mongrel and already his heart pined and ached for his return. Iason inwardly cursed himself for letting him go in the first place, now realising just what a toll it had taken on him. Sighing, he slowed down a little, the fog in his mind clearing a bit and common sense kicking in. It wouldn't do well to incite Jupiter's wrath by breaching the speed limit – he was already on tenterhooks with regards to the sentient supercomputer and to evoke even more anger and castigation would not bode well.

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Breathing heavily, Iason stood outside the hotel room, excited with the knowledge that his pet was on the other side of the door. Hand trembling, he activated the lock, its mechanism immediately springing to life – recognizing his signature in an instant and admitting him with a silent slide of the door. Iason moved forward, stepping over its threshold and scanning the room eagerly for his precious Riki. The scene before him, however, stilled all movement, freezing the Blondie not only in his tracks but also what felt like the beating of his very heart. There before him was Riki, tangled in the bed sheets and entwined erotically, passionately with another mongrel, who was sporting a ponytail of flowing brown hair. Naked and sweating, the two mongrels were in the throes of passion, unabashed and revelling in utter euphoria. Riki was there, eyes shut tightly, his body rubbing furiously against the bed with this nameless man rocking between his legs. Tears of rapture trailed down his flushed cheeks and his fingers dug and scraped against his partner's back. The headboard crashed repeatedly against the wall behind whilst Riki articulated his pleasure with throated moans and begs for more, the combination of the two deafening the Blondie and driving him insane with dark jealousy. Iason, heartbroken, watched his pet drawing close to climax, nearing the peak with each thrust of his lover's hips. Unable to bear a second longer, Iason fled the room, charging down the corridor in a blind rage, furious and overcome with such pain.

"Guy!" Riki screamed then, his lover's seed exploding within him, articulating not his own release but rather the sudden, agonising constriction of his pet ring, the device biting into his engorged flesh and halting him on the brink of orgasm. Turning his head towards the door, he gasped, horrified, in dawning realisation of what it meant. That's when he saw it - a flash of golden hair that penetrated through his blur of hot tears, the image distorted and yet painstakingly clear.

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Entering the penthouse in a flurry of golden hair and swirling cloak, Iason ambled into the Great Hall, marching directly to his prized collection of Pytharian swords and daggers. There, he thrust his hand through the protective holographic shield and selected a long, glittering dagger, its handle decorated with ancient Ginko inscription and its blade sharp and gleaming. He proceeded to the mirror, huge and encompassing an entire wall, and then stood before it crying, glaring bitterly at his reflection. He raised the dagger to his throat and placed the cold blade against his skin. One slice – that's all it would take to rid him of this wretched world and end his suffering. He couldn't stand to live a moment longer, couldn't bear the heartache and sorrow anymore. Riki had truly broken his heart into a thousand pieces, the shards cutting away at his insides and coursing through his blood, spreading a searing pain across his entire body.

He was past the point of punishment and reprimand, past the point of forgiving and forgetting, truly past the point of no return. No going back, he couldn't take it, the images of Riki and Guy swimming in his head, obscuring his vision and tearing at his soul. Why? How? Questions bombarding his head and yet rebounding unanswered. Iason continued to glare at his reflection, the hand holding the dagger trembling and beginning to shake. Seconds passed and still he remained riveted to the spot, tears streaming down his face and staining the front of his expensive bodysuit. Gazing into the mirror, he then realised in disgust that he couldn't do it, could not kill himself. He was too afraid, too shaken to commit the deed. What delicious irony – as much as he longed for a blessed end to this turmoil, he couldn't attain it.

Furious now at himself and his cowardliness, he seized his golden locks instead and held them at arm's length, wielding the dagger through the air and chopping off the silken tresses in one swift movement. Watching his hair swirling and drifting gracefully to the floor, Iason then glowered bitterly at the blade within his hands and flung it across the room, the deafening clatter of metal hitting marble ringing in his ears. Iason looked down at his hair, limp and lifeless, and then back up at his reflection. He was unmoved, indifferent at what he saw, in fact a little satisfied at his now marred appearance. To him, the hair symbolised something: his status, his position, his identity. Was it not hair that determined the society in which he lived? His hair that separated himself from Riki? Hair that made him incomparable to Guy? Hair that set him and Riki in two completely different worlds, making them opposites, rivals, enemies? How could he ever win the love of a mongrel from the slums with hair of sparkling gold? The very notion now becoming twisted and fragmented, pathetic and foolish to the Blondie.

Drained, Iason wiped away his tears and slowly made his way to his chair, turning it around to face the window and then slumping against its plush cushions. Here Iason had a grand view of the sky above and the city below, his reflection in the panelled glass also a constant reminder of what he had just lost, both emotionally and physically. There was nothing left to do but wait for his pet's return.

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After what seemed an eternity, the door of the penthouse finally hummed open and in walked the guilt-ridden mongrel, his light, timid steps betraying his anxiety and apprehension. Riki knew that he was in serious trouble and was dreading confronting his Blondie Master, who could only be described as terrifying and formidable with his anger evoked. Riki considered fleeing back out the door, even turned around to entertain the idea, but then the knowledge that he could no longer escape sank in; now that the penthouse door had closed shut, it would no longer open to his signature. "A clever means of keeping you locked safely inside," Iason had explained one day, when Riki had demanded why the door opened for everybody but him.

Raking a hand through his shabby hair and taking a deep breath, Riki kicked off his shoes and walked down the hallway, entering the Great Hall dejectedly. At first, he thought he was alone and that Iason must have retired to his bedroom, but then a slight rustle at the other end of the room caught him off guard, startling him from his thoughts and instantly filling him with a new surge of dread. His fears were then affirmed when he spotted the back of his Master's chair, and then met Iason's intense gaze in the reflection of the panelled windows.

"I-Iason…" Riki stammered, immediately feeling the tears pricking his eyes as he began to fearfully approach his Master.

Iason continued to watch his pet in the glass, his lack of words and movement proving most unsettling to Riki, who continued to creep forwards. Once Riki had reached the chair, he stood stock-still as if afraid to move any closer or waiting for Iason's permission to do so. Iason, however, remained motionless, choosing to wait and see what his pet would do next, how bold his pet would be in the light of his unforgivable transgression. Realising that he would be getting no response from his Master, Riki stepped hesitantly forward, making his way slowly around the chair to face the Blondie. What he saw shocked him so much, that he fell to his knees, leaning forward and burying his face in his Master's lap.

"I'm sorry…" Riki choked, a torrent of salty tears now cascading down his cheeks, "Iason, I am so sorry."

Crying, Riki moved forward and seized the severed locks in his hands, gently fingering the hewed ends in disbelief. Iason's hair had been somewhat precious to him – so soft and beautiful, with its heavenly scent and the way it rippled so brilliantly in the air. Riki remembered when, in the throes of passion, he would twirl the silken strands around his fingers and delight in their feathery caresses on his skin. He also remembered the times where he washed that beautiful hair in the bath, the way it cascaded down Iason's back when he ran the spray of water over it, and then afterwards how wondrous the damp tresses would feel under his fingertips as he combed it through. The same hair, he thought bitterly, that he had seen during his illicit tryst with Guy, the flash of white that had haunted him through the entire night.

Releasing the now shoulder-length hair, Riki buried his head into the Blondie's chest, no longer frightened that his Master would strike him. Iason's unresponsiveness was somehow comforting to Riki, a reassurance, almost, that his Master was not actually mad at him. This was true to a certain degree; Iason was now far more hurt than angry. During the dark hours of his silent brooding, Iason's anger had slowly disintegrated into nothing more than a dull ache – something that the Blondie found puzzling and a little unnerving. In the past, he had always resorted to punishment, letting his fury overpower his senses. He had always exacted authority onto his pet, forcing him into submission and only relinquishing his blows when the mongrel was truly broken. Now, he laughed inside, he could see the futility in this: Riki the Dark could never be tamed no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he pushed. The mongrel's spirit was tough and resilient, impossible to shatter. Perhaps he would have fun trying to break it, but, ultimately, he would have to accept this. After all, this was the reason why he had picked the exotic mongrel over a mindless, docile academy-bred pet, was it not?

Iason was brought out of these ponderings by the sound of Riki's sobs, which had by now grown quite audible and were laced with true sincerity and remorse. He then slowly lifted his arms and encircled his pet, his desire to hold and comfort Riki finally outweighing his need for detachment and reservation. Riki only cried harder at this, snuggling deeper into his Master's chest. A fountain of apologies then flowed liberally from his lips, slightly muffled, and a stark contrast from his usual flurry of insults and profanities. Iason embraced his pet even harder, stroking Riki's hair reassuringly and whispering forgiveness in his ear. The two then sat there quietly, each gaining warmth and understanding from the other, the twin moons of Amoi bathing them in a silvery pool of light.

"Hair grows, Riki," Iason said, breaking the silence with a shaky voice, "…but can your love?"

**Owari**

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**A/N:** Thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Please take the time to review; feedback is much appreciated.

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